I gather sweet and bitter of yesterday's collection - long halls with many doors filled with cursing, loves, addictions. Conversation and a feel-good drag linger in the windowsill, while moon trades places with the sun, and heat replaced with chill. Smitten souls seek solace with their backs against brick walls mingling philosophy and last night's game with breath from pipes and menthols. Long walks for harbored thoughts, profound or stupid all the same - we weren't pretending anymore, the gloves were off, we felt no shame. For bottles held around the fire serve to remind us friends, that bottles now raised separately, this prost is not the end.

Mossy Rat Brewing Co.

Est. 2008

Elijah, Ross, Micah, Matt, Matt, Andrew (Taco)

Something less real - a dip into fantasy or imagination - and letting it play out. When you hear the whole song, it makes more sense. But for now, I can live with the silly-ness of that mental picture.

An invitation to hold on, observe, and find appreciation for the puzzle piece that doesn't look quite right. Wait for it, there might be good in the injured tomato plant. How real is that? The wind sweeping whole plants into the sky, then dropping it like it's hot? Yep - total fiction.

Well, that is only until it actually happens. Then what? Will you know what to do? A bad something only imaginable before suddenly happens. That 'something less real' before is real now. Can it be appreciated? Can we thank God for them?

Thank? What the hell for - a ruined tomato plant? That would be idiotic...

But I had something to care for while she was away... and it made me feel better, if only after the fact. The story ends now, not as everything was, but the way it needed to be. And it started out as something less real...